


Greatness Within - A Lance Ficlet Collection

by sanbika



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Ficlet Collection, Gen, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanbika/pseuds/sanbika
Summary: A Lance-focused series of ficlets and drabbles. Prompts welcomed in the comments.Chapter 1 - Ask Me Where I've BeenKeith followed the silhouette of Shiro’s rugged, handsome features, the shine of his silver hair, remembering another’s softer lines. His stomach twisted and turned, ached with the need for something different, for something to be done, to come clean, to be absolved, to have never done it, to do it again.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 14





	Greatness Within - A Lance Ficlet Collection

_Ask me where I’ve been._

But Shiro didn’t ask, didn’t say a word as he read through a thick docket he’d brought home from work, pausing occasionally to scratch their Alaskan Malamute Kosmo’s big head, which kept finding its way back to his human's lap, or to offer a sweet sleepy grin across the table. 

With the amount of work he had as the city D.A., the sight of Shiro bent over a late dinner and a stack of briefs was unfortunately common. 

Still they had promised to spend dinner together every day, following advice Keith’s dad Ken had given them when they’d wed. The scant few moments alone together were worth dark circles. 

Or had been ten years ago. 

Every bite of dinner curdled in his stomach as Keith watched his husband methodically making his way through his plate of beef stew and piles of work, taking notes in margins, occasionally yawning out a comment about his staff or asking if there had been any interesting news at the physical therapy clinic. 

There hadn’t been. 

Except for the truth that was bubbling up the back of Keith’s throat, that he forced down with too-hot sips of his jasmine tea and small talk about Romelle’s graduation or Acxa’s awkward suitors and the brutal quips she used to shut them down. 

The room felt too warm and closed in on him. He was home with Shiro but he really wasn’t. 

Keith was still back with _him_ , hands clutching firm hips an inch too close to his own, fixing their alignment as he inhaled the herbal smell of shampoo. 

He was still meeting sea-blue eyes in the mirror one too many times, getting stuck on cherry-pink cheeks, broad shoulders, his delicate jaw and neck, warm, golden skin he imagined tasting with a pull in his core. 

He was still glancing down at the chart of exercises so he could stave off his own blush for a few moments longer. 

He was still correcting forms and stretches that were perfect just so Keith could keep his hands on that strong, enticing figure a moment longer. 

A soft voice broke through his reverie. 

“Did you end up going shopping for Hunk and Shay’s Christening? I noticed you were home a bit late, hun.”

Keith licked his lips before glancing up to meet Shiro’s grey eyes, so open and steady. He panicked a moment, feeling cold and empty until familiar threads of affection and shame rose up in response to his husband’s gentle expression. 

“I, uh, did, but couldn’t really find anything good. You should probably get it, you’re better at that stuff than I am.”

He had been to the mall but the Christening had been the farthest thing from his mind. 

Lance was a client, was still in college, was willowy with the sexiest smile and dimples, was everything a happily married person shouldn’t look twice at. 

And somehow Keith had been dragged to a dozen different shops to try on tight muscle tees just so Lance could pump his fists and whistle at his pecs and biceps, in between eating guava and dulce de leche cones and Cajun fries. They’d made out in dressing rooms and nearly gotten chased out of a makeup store for being too rowdy together, laughing at the looks Lance could achieve with testers. They’d driven to a lake to watch the sun set and burnish the water with blues and reds and orange hues, while Lance shyly shared his equally vibrant hopes for the future. 

Lance was silly, challenging, infuriating, cocky, gorgeous, obnoxious, sweet, direct. He was new, exciting, provoking. He had a casual confidence about him, a charm that burned Keith up and gave him chills, a way of goading him on that made his pulse sing to try new things, to make mistakes. 

Lance didn’t ask, he demanded with a dazzling smile. 

A hand reached across the table, and Keith stretched his own out to take it, feeling the same grooves and calluses he’d traced for the past fifteen years, the well-loved platinum braided band with its scratches and dents.

Shiro was still making pencil scratch notes on his papers and placing stickies every few paragraphs, humming to himself, not quite attentive but still caring, still trying to be present (even though he hadn’t been truly in the moment for far too long, Keith thought bitterly). 

“Did you do anything else today?”

He followed the silhouette of Shiro’s rugged, handsome features, the shine of his silver hair, remembering another’s softer lines. His stomach twisted and turned, ached with the need for something different, for something to be done, to come clean, to be absolved, to have never done it, to do it again. 

Surely his sins were written across his face, in his posture, in the depths of his eyes. 

Keith looked at his husband, a thousand thoughts and feelings surging in him as he pictured someone else. 

_I put my wedding ring in my back pocket today._

_I made the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen sing with pleasure._

_I drove him home on the bike you gave me on our tenth anniversary._

_I am falling in love with someone who isn’t you._

“Not really,” he murmured, whistling for his dog again, offering him the bowl to lick.

Kosmo didn’t move.

**Author's Note:**

> No, I don't condone cheating. Keith needs to use his words and owes Shiro a huge apology. This fic was basically conceived in a dream and I had to write it. I'll have a reverse fic where Shiro is the cheater up in a few days. 
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> This is a Lance-focused series of ficlets and drabbles that I've been working on since Season 1 of Voltron. I hope you enjoy them and let me know what your thoughts are in the comments! I also will consider adding to this collection with prompts you submit in the comments (I am willing to write on quite a lot of topics, barring any topics or pairings that I find difficult).
> 
> I have been having a bit of a low in my writing, partially because it is hard to keep motivated when fewer and fewer are people willing to engage with authors online through comments or messages. I love writing and have so many ideas but it can feel like an echo chamber when you don't know what people thought and felt when they read your work. So this is my attempt to let go and just post some of the many, many stories I've written. 
> 
> It would mean a lot to me if you can let me know how you did or didn't like it, if you have some constructive criticism, or if there's a spin off you'd like to see.
> 
> Thank you for making it this far!


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